Classic Poem

Melodious the morning when the mist
Begins to dupe the eye and woo the ear
With minuets that tread the water here:
A ballroom floor where ghost and ghost may tryst
Whose shoes and shadows, limned with amethyst,
Some distant hidden artist brushes clear,
Who even tints two profiles drawing near—
Proving those pallid things once touched and kissed.

Don't utter now so much as one soft breath:
Confusion this enough to drive away
A dance reincarnated out of death
To help those beings turn their night toward day:
A thought were loud enough to scare apart
A love they now have nought of—but the art!